


The Checkup

by DeutchRemy



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Protective Parent Jim "Chief" Hopper, post-gate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29229915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeutchRemy/pseuds/DeutchRemy
Summary: It's been two weeks since El closed the gate and she's having worsening headaches and nosebleeds.  Hopper reluctantly takes her to see Doc Owens.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper & Jim "Chief" Hopper
Comments: 21
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

So far the nurses have approached the girl as a veterinarian would approach an abused dog.

At least, that’s how Hopper sees it.

Although none of Owens’ medical team had worked under Brenner, they all knew Eleven’s history and did not need Hopper’s laundry list of instructions drilled into their brains, but he did anyway.

Don’t spook her.

If she says no, she means no.

Ask before you do anything.

I can refuse any test or treatment as I see fit.

I will be with her at all times. At. All. Times.

She had refused to let him step behind the curtain while she changed. The nurse had initially handed her a standard hospital gown to put on but Hopper had quickly snatched it away and requested as politely as he could muster that she be allowed to remain in her own clothing.

The nurse had left the room to relay his request to Owens, who had appeared a minute later on a pair of crutches and looking sheepish, and explained quietly to Hopper that El’s long sleeves would make blood draws more difficult…if she consents to blood draws, he added after the fact.

They wound up compromising and soon El was swimming in a pair of extra small blue scrubs that Hopper had to cinch up tight at her belly button so they didn’t fall down. He then all but demanded that she be given a pair of hospital socks - the ones with the grippers on the bottom - so she wouldn’t slip if she needed to stand.

There’s a knock on the doorframe and a hand grips the white privacy curtain.

“Okay if I come in?”

“Yep.” Hopper answers, his arms crossed and tone clipped in a way that suggests he still only partially trusts Owens and his team, and is only going along with this for El’s health and because it was part of their deal in order to secure her safety.

The doctor must sense this as he pulls the curtain aside and hobbles in.

“Relax, pops.” He says casually, leaning his crutches against the counter and lowering himself into the chair next to the bed with a loud groan.

“How’s the leg?” Hopper asks, nodding towards the bandages enrobing the man’s lower limb.

“Eh, I’ve had worse. Korea. But more importantly,” he turns towards Eleven, “how’s this little lady doing?”

El doesn’t respond. Instead, she just stares at him nervously.

“That’s okay, hun, you don’t have to talk if you don’t feel like it.” He says patiently then turns towards Hopper. “Pops?”

Hopper sighs, still unsure of how comfortable he is talking to this man about El, but his exam room in this partially-destroyed laboratory is the closest he’s going to get to a hospital for her, at least for now.

“She’s, uh, tired. I mean really, really tired. And yes, that’s normal for her after she uses her powers to such an extent.” He clears his throat. “The, uh, the boys - you know, Will and all his little friends - described her as being like a battery that needs to recharge. But she’s had a headache damn near every day since she closed the gate. I’ve been alternating her on Tylenol and Motrin every six hours but they’ve barely touched it.”

“Okay.” Owens scribbles notes in El’s file. “Okay…and you told one of my nurses that she’s been having nosebleeds?”

“Well, okay, so just like the exhaustion, the nosebleeds are normal, too. But only during and immediately after she uses her powers. Two nights ago she woke up and almost half of her pillowcase was covered in blood.” Hopper presses his lips together and looks down at the floor. One not need a psychology degree to recognize this behavior as a father trying not to cry.

“Could she have been using her powers in her sleep?”

“She’s never done it before, and I’ve never seen her bleed that much.” There’s a tiny tug on his sleeve, and Hopper turns his head to see a tired El with his shirt pinched between her thumb and index finger, trying to pull him backwards. He does as she asks and sits down on the edge of the bed. El pushes the blankets off and crawls over so she’s slumped against his side, her head resting on his bicep. Hopper takes a deep breath before continuing. “I’m just…worried there could be something wrong.”

“Okay.” Owens has always had a gentle voice, but it’s even softer now that he’s seen the wary, overprotective, bear of a man turn into a stressed out and worried father right in front of his eyes. “I can understand why you’re concerned, so here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna get some images of her brain, alright? For starters, at least, then we’ll go from there.”

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

The nurses move in. Both women. They look friendly and seem like they may have experience with so-called “difficult” patients. Not that El is "difficult", so much as...psychologically scarred.

“We’re gonna take some blood from you, okay honey, but to get the blood out we need to insert an IV into your arm. It's like a tiny little plastic straw.” One of them explains in a calming, saccharine voice. “Is that alright with you?” She heard Hopper's instructions and doesn’t want to proceed without getting confirmation.

El says nothing.

“Dad? That okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He stands up from the bed and El grapples for his sleeve, catching a tiny bit of material between her fingers. “I’m not going anywhere, kid. But the nurses can’t take your blood if I’m in the way. I’m gonna sit over here, okay?” He indicates a rolling chair on the other side of the bed. “I’ll be close enough for you to hold my hand. Okay?”

El nods, though one look at her face is all it takes to see that she’s obviously not happy about the new arrangement.

Hopper walks around the bed and plops himself in the chair on the other side, scooting it over almost comically until his knees touch the mattress. He reaches for her right hand.

“Squeeze hard if anything hurts, yeah?”

El nods and takes a deep breath, and Hopper briefly wonders whether he’ll be able to tell the difference between fear and potential flashbacks, should they arise.

The nurse pushes up her sleeve just a bit and swiftly wraps a large blue rubber band tightly around the girl’s upper arm. El remembers this part.

It wasn’t often that she would have an IV at the lab, but when she did it would remain in for weeks at a time, with it being switched arms every three days or so.

She squeezes her eyes shut and makes a tiny squeaky sound in her throat as the rubber pinches her delicate skin, but manages to keep the tears at bay. For now at least.

“Squeeze my hand, kid.”

El grips the man’s hand painfully, her breath speeding up as the nurse wipes a cold alcohol pad along the crook of her elbow.

“You’re doing great.” The woman reassures in a gentle voice, noticing the girl’s quickening breath and the way she stares at the needle as it emerges from its plastic packaging. “Just gonna be a little pinch, okay, hon?”

“Don’t look at it, kid. Look over here, look at me.” Hopper reaches his other hand over to brush a few strands of curly hair from her forehead. El turns her head towards her surrogate father but keeps her eyes squeezed shut, his voice and the soothing ministrations of his fingers on her brow the only things keeping her calm.

There’s another crinkle of plastic and then a hand stabilizing her arm. “Ready?”

“It’s now or never.” Hopper answers for her.

A sharp stabbing pain in her left arm. Definitely more than just a pinch. It lets up for a second but then hits her again. Again, there’s a moment of painlessness followed by another stabbing.

“Owowowowow.” El doesn’t even realize she’s saying it.

“You’re doing great, honey, just relax.” The calm feminine voice soothes. 

The pain hits a fourth time and then she finally turns her head to the left and opens her eyes before Hopper can think to stop her. The nurse is concentrating hard. Her brow is furrowed and she’s pushing the needle below El’s skin then pulling it back out, redirecting it, and pushing it back in again. It’s becoming more excruciating with each passing second.

She must notice El watching, because she finally speaks.

“It’s okay, honey, I’m just having a bit of trouble finding your vein…I’m gonna try once more with this arm and if I still can’t get in I’m gonna try your other one, alright?”

El replies with a whimper.

“This is gonna be the worst part of your day, though, okay? I know it hurts but once we get this IV in your arm you’ll be able to just relax for the rest of the day, no more hurt.”

Her fifth attempt at tapping the vein in El’s left arm is as unsuccessful as the previous four tries and results only in her blowing the vessel and leaving behind a large hematoma.

Hopper relocates to the left side of the bed, and the next ten minutes are spent much the same, with the girl’s right arm and the same exact results. Eventually the other nurse steps up to the plate, the previous one having used up all of her tries, and manages to place a patent IV in El’s left hand. She then proceeds to draw six vials of blood.

“Dad, I’m just gonna set her up on a drip,” the first nurse informs Hopper as she hangs a clear bag of liquid on the IV pole, “she’s probably dehydrated, which is why we had trouble finding a vein.”

Hopper only nods in reply. He’s more focused on his girl right now. She’s curled up on her left side, facing him, his left hand playing with her hair, his right currently held hostage between her cheek and her pillow. She’s crying quietly, and it’s all he can do not to join her.

Jesus, he feels like he’s run a marathon, and they’ve only just gotten started. Hopefully the nurse was right and the worst part of the day is over.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

“How we doin’ in here?” Owens hobbles back in on his crutches.

Hopper would like to say “See for yourself” and display El’s bruised little arms, but he refrains. El is stressed out enough and seeing him upset will only compound it. So for her sake he plasters a fake smile onto his face and lies through his teeth.

“We’re doin’ alright, doc.”

“Goodgoodgood. That’s what I like to hear.” The doctor frowns slightly. “IV in the hand. Ouch.”

“Yep, blew the veins in both of her arms.” Again, he tries to keep the contempt out of his voice.

“Well that’s no fun. She’s probably a bit dehydrated. Looks like they set her up with a bag of fluid.”

“Do you mind if we just get on with whatever tests you want to run? Wait.” He holds up a hand. “Lemme rephrase that - do you mind if we get on with whatever tests will benefit El and which she and I both consent to?”

Owens ignores the sting in Hopper’s voice. He knows it’s a well-deserved hatred of what he stands for, not a hatred of him personally. He eases himself into a chair.

“You got it, pops. You’ll be happy to know that the first of the tests are already underway.”

Hopper raises an eyebrow.

“The blood tests. We got six vials. We’re running everything - red count, white count, platelets, serum chemistry, which will tell us how her liver and kidneys are functioning as well as her glucose and electrolyte levels, thyroid function, enzymes, nutrients. The works. And,” he looks at El, “we’ll be able to tell you your blood type.”

As if she cares. 

Owens looks back at Hopper.

“Now let’s discuss the other procedures we should consider. First and foremost, I think we should do a CT scan. It sounds as though the headaches and nosebleeds are your biggest concern, and rightly so. A CT will give us the clearest picture of what’s going on in El’s brain.”

He grabs El’s file from the countertop next to him and flips through it until he finds the section for notes. “But first, would you mind getting me up to speed on her history? Ten minutes at most, nothing’s gonna hurt, and it’ll help me form a clearer picture of what’s going on with her.” He taps his pen gently on the paper. “Will that be alright?”

Hopper considers this. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess it’s alright. If you think it’ll benefit her.”

“Alright, sounds like a plan.” He looks at El and his voice increases somewhat in volume, as if he’s talking to a toddler. “I’m gonna ask your dad some questions about you. Is that okay?”

El glances at Hop then back at Owens before nodding slowly.

“Okay, sounds good. And if there’s any question you’re not comfortable with, just let me know, okay?”

El nods again.

“Great.” He looks back at Hop. “Now, I’d love to start from the beginning, but I was unable to locate her original file. I’m not sure if Brenner destroyed it prior to -“

“I have it.” Hopper cuts him off. “At home. And that’s where it’ll stay.”

“Fair enough. Now, I have her birthdate here but I don’t have her immunization records. Those would be helpful - entirely for her benefit, of course. Could you -“

“I’ll get them to you.”

“Great.” The doctor clears his throat and grunts a bit as he tries to adjust his position in the chair. “Would it be possible to get a height and weight now? Or would you rather do that later?”

“On the way out.”

“You got it, chief.” He flips through the pages in the file again. “Blood pressure’s a bit high, but we can take it again later once she’s more relaxed. Same for her heart rate.” He clears his throat again, switching topics. “Has she begun to menstruate?”

Hopper is slightly irritated by this question, not only because he doesn’t see why it’s the doctor’s business but also because he has yet to broach the subject with El. He’s ashamed that he’s waited so long to discuss it with her, especially since she’s certainly completely ignorant of it. “Not yet, no.” He can’t help but notice the confused look El gives him. 

“Well, judging from her physical development, I’d give it another year or so.” The look he gives Hopper says “don’t worry, pops, you have plenty of time to talk to her about it.”

“Now, what other symptoms is she having? You mentioned lethargy in addition to the headaches and nosebleeds, but is there anything else? Any vomiting?”

“She’s vomited a couple times when her headache gets really bad. And I mean really, really bad. Enough to put her in tears.” Hopper runs the backs of his fingers across the girl’s forehead.

Owens writes feverishly in the file. “Any stomach pain or blood in the vomit?”

“No.”

“Diarrhea or blood in the stool?”

“No.”

“Dizziness or vertigo?”

“For the first few days after she closed the gate she was pretty unbalanced, yeah.”

“Changes in appetite?”

“She’s lost a couple pounds. It’s hard getting food into her when she feels really lousy.”

“Behavioral changes? Is she acting out at all?”

“I guess she’s been a bit cranky but she hasn’t broken any lamps if that’s what you mean.”

Owens smiles. “Goodgood. How much sleep does she get each night? Is she on a regular schedule?”

“Typically eight or nine hours.”

“Does she sleep through the night?”

Hopper scratches his beard. “Uh, when I first took her in she almost never slept through the night. Not for the first three months or so. Then she started sleeping like a log. Right after she closed the gate, she slept for about sixteen hours straight. But now…”

“It’s difficult for her?”

“She’s waking up every three hours or so. Sometimes she’ll have blood all over her pillow. She always looks scared when she wakes, like she was having a nightmare, but when I ask - ”

“not nightmares.” Her voice is small.

“Not nightmares? Okay. Do you know why you wake up scared, then?”

“no.”

“That’s okay. That’s why we’re here. To figure all this out. Alright?”

“yes.”

“Great.” He looks at Hopper again. “Alright, pops. I think we’re ready to begin.”

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Kids can say and do some weird things while waking up from anesthesia. Things that would be amusing under more benign circumstances. 

Hopper has never had a child undergo anesthesia for something mundane like a tonsil or appendix removal, though. No, his Sarah was sedated for imaging to diagnose her terminal cancer and during subsequent procedures. Her drunken antics during the recovery period were only ever smiled at in half-hearted attempts to lighten the mood, as they were always overshadowed by the very dark reason she was there in the first place.

During Sarah’s time in the hospital, Diane had become friendly with a couple whose similarly-aged daughter had leukemia. She would often talk about how, despite their girl’s bleak prognosis, the couple was constantly cheerful and upbeat. Diane believed it was simply their personality. Hopper, on the other hand, who had realized that becoming a pessimist and anticipating the worst was the only way to ensure his sanity, told her that it was all just a show for the girl’s benefit and that surely they both cried themselves to sleep every night.

Now here he is again, sitting at another little girl’s bedside while she struggles to emerge from whatever cocktail of drugs she was given, silently cursing the circumstances that led to this.

No, El isn’t in any danger, as the scans of her brain came back blessedly negative for any growths or bleeding. But Hopper will never, ever, forget the look of terror on her face when she saw the CT machine, or how, despite the mild relaxant drug they gave her five minutes prior, she began to hyperventilate as they put her inside it.

Just like learning Sarah’s diagnosis, it will forever be burned into his memory how El began struggling and the nurses had to hold her down while he yelled from his position at the observation window, where he had been relegated despite his insistence that he remain with her until they got her into the machine.

He had yelled at them to take their hands off of her, that they were only frightening her more by restraining her, and had wrenched the door open, determined to get to her, just as Owens clicked on the intercom and said calmly “Sedation, please.”

By the time Hopper got into the adjacent room, a nurse was unscrewing a now-empty syringe from El’s IV port and his daughter was slipping into unconsciousness, one hand trying to weakly grab at the oxygen mask that another nurse was fastening to her face.

“I told you to take your hands off of her!” Hopper bellowed, and the frightened nurses jumped.

“Stand down, Chief.” Came Owens’ voice as he hobbled into the room on his crutches. He held up a hand at the furious man. “Please. Please, let’s just take a breath, okay?” He demonstrated this himself, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Now, I know this didn’t go exactly as we planned. But let’s just go ahead and take the images while she’s out, and you can throttle me later. Alright? She’s calm, she’s safe, so let’s get this done.”

So Hopper had relented, quelling his innate desire to just bundle his daughter up and take her home, and retreated to the observation room while the nurses bustled about, flushing El’s IV and placing a warmed blanket over her.

When the scans were finished he followed behind his daughter’s gurney as she was wheeled back to her room, and watched helplessly as her limp form was shifted back onto her bed. His heart broke as the nurses changed El into a standard hospital gown and removed her underpants, having noticed that the pair of donated scrubs was soaked in urine.

Now, as he sits at her bedside, he ponders how he can make this all up to her. Nonstop Eggos whenever she wants are guaranteed. Maybe they’ll pick up some Chinese food and a stack of movies on the way home. He’ll stay home from work tomorrow and they’ll watch movies and read chapter after chapter of their book and she can snuggle up with whatever new stuffed animal he’ll dash into the nearest store for. 

There’s the rap of knuckles against wood and a moment later a nurse pulls the privacy curtain aside. She’s hesitant, clearly a bit gun-shy from Hopper’s outburst earlier. He feels bad about that. The nurses were only doing what they were trained to do, after all, to keep both El and themselves safe. He’s not feeling generous enough to apologize yet, though.

“Is it okay if I take her vitals?” She asks.

“Go ahead.” Hopper says, not quite meeting the woman’s eyes.

El sleeps through the blood pressure reading but begins to whine when the nurse undoes the shoulder of her gown and slips the cold thermometer under her arm. Hopper reaches for her and pets her hair.

“You’re okay, baby. I’m here.”

The girl opens her brown eyes and then squeezes them shut.

“Just try and rest, okay hon?” The nurse coos. “You’ll feel much better once you sleep all that medicine off.”

“home…” the girl mumbles, trying to fight the sleep that threatens to pull her back under.

Hopper runs the backs of his fingers down his daughter’s cheek. “We’ll go home in a bit, okay? Just close your eyes and sleep.”

TBC


End file.
